Daddy's Little Girl
by Trylan Aire
Summary: She wanted Daddy back, and she supposed if she did what Sportsmaster wanted, Daddy would come back. Daddy never came back


**Disclaimer-** disclaimed

**Title- **Daddy's Little Girl

**Summary-**_ She wanted Daddy back, and she supposed if she did what Sportsmaster wanted, Daddy would come back. Daddy never came back_

**Rating-**Teen

….

Her fingertips curled over the door handle. Artemis Crock was literally five feet away from her Father. A metal door separated her from the man she had learned to fear her whole life. At twenty seven years old, Artemis had little to fear now. She was a crime fighter, for Gods sake. She was a heroine, people looked up to _her. _She shouldn't be afraid of him anymore. Yet she was. She was afraid of seeing his eyes bore into hers, with that cruel, demeaning glance he'd given her so many times. She was terrified to hear his voice, so gruff, and she suspected rough with his age. He would call her a coward, a push over, a goody two shoes. Tell her how she never had the right spark for the family business, tell her she _failed. _And she knew she would sit and listen. Because that's all she did when he spoke to her.

She hated the man who awaited in the room. Hated him since the day he'd handed her a knife, at five years old. _Five_. At five, he had changed from Daddy to Sportsmaster, in one quick fluid movement. At five, he'd begun training her how to be a killer, cold hearted, _ruthless. _A murderer. And she had been a good student. She listened. She wanted Daddy back, and she supposed if she did what Sportsmaster wanted, Daddy would come back. Daddy never came back.

She hated him because of who he turned her into. She hated him for giving her bruises, bloody gashes, head trauma instead of birthday presents or goodnight kisses. She hated him for taking away her Mother. She hated him for forcing Jade away. She hated him each time she felt a knife twist in her gut. She hated him each time she felt daggers slip from her nimble fingers, easily hitting their targets in all the right spots. She hated him because of her lost childhood. She hated him because he deprived her of everything a child should have experienced. While children were scraping knees while riding bikes, Artemis was learning how to deliver lethal blows.

Artemis loathed her Father because of the secrets he forced her to keep. She loathed him because of the innocent people she had to hurt for him. She loathed him when the little girls screamed and cried for their Daddy's, and she'd just silently end their suffering. She loathed him because of the look in Wally's emerald green eyes when he called her selfish. She loathed him when the Team learned about her secrets, and why she kept them. She loathed him when Wally discovered the ugly scars, and when he called her beautiful. Because her Father had made sure she wasn't.

Most of all, Artemis hated her Father because her youngest son had his eyes. Chocolate brown, dark around the edges, but a warm brown in the center. She hated Lawrence Crock because when she went into labor with her first child, her Father was sent to Solitary Confinement for a stabbing. She despised her Father because her oldest son had his straw yellow hair, like her, like his Grandfather's. She hated him every time the boys asked why they didn't have a Grandpa, and she hated him when she couldn't answer.

Her fingers twisted the door knob, and it creaked softly and she pushed it open. The man's eyes met hers and she steadied herself. "Hey, baby girl. Wondering when you'd come for a visit." His voice was hoarse, and rough, but it was her _Father's _voice_._ She nodded to him, and settled in the chair in front of him. "I guess I should feel lucky, huh, Baby girl?" he questioned, a frown marring his face. "Out of all the bastards here, you choose little old me."

Her charcoal grey eyes assessed the man sitting before her, eyes drifting over his face, over the new, unfamiliar wrinkles and lines. "Out of all the bastards in the World, I got you." She marveled, shaking her head, ponytail bobbing behind her. He grunted. "How my grandkids doin'?" he wondered. "Fine." She never allowed him details. Details meant power, and Sportsmaster lived for power. "Heard the oldest one has your hair, youngest has my eyes. Good genes, huh, baby girl?" And for a moment, it almost feels like harmless teasing. She almost forgot they were sitting in a holding cell in Belle Reve, instead of her sitting across form him in their old apartment. Almost.

"What's the oldest ones name. Richard?" he questioned, furrowing his brow. She nodded. "And Calvin." She added. Her Father snorted. "You sure can pick 'em, baby girl." He mocked.

"You should talk. You named me _Artemis_." She shot back. And a smile spread over his face, genuine. Artemis had made her Father smile. She stifled her need to vomit with a cough. Her eyes lowered to her purse, where her phone vibrated. She picked it up quickly, reading the text. "I have to go. Duty calls." She said, turning away, hand on the door knob once more. "Artemis." The way he says her name sends chills down her spine, but she turns to face him.

"You made something of yourself, little girl. May not be my idea of a career, but damn, you're pretty well off." He sighed. And she nodded, fingers clenching tightly. "Ok. I'll see you later." She choked out. And as she opened the door, she turned her head slightly and murmured, "Bye Daddy."

….


End file.
